


Lost

by RedTeamShark



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Author Chose Not To Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2019-09-12 04:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: “He’s gone.” Geoff whispers, eyes locked on the ground. “Michael, I did everything I could, but… he’s gone.” And with those words, my world falls apart.





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Proper warnings, tags, etc, may come in the future. For the time being I'm frantically transferring my content to a stable platform amidst growing concerns about tumblr's inevitable implosion.
> 
> Apologies for flooding the fandom page.

It was supposed to be a normal day.

The thought keeps repeating in my head as I run, almost blindly, through the park. Shouting his name again and again, looking desperately for any sign of him. He couldn’t be gone, he couldn’t be just  _gone_.

This isn’t how normal days are supposed to go.

I nearly crash into Geoff, his hands grabbing my shoulders, steadying me. There’s blood on his knuckles and the knees of his jeans are busted out, blood there too. “Michael.” He whispers, pulling me into himself, into a tight hug. “Michael, I’m sorry.”

Everything stops for a long moment, even my heart. “Geoff… No…”

“He’s gone.” Geoff whispers, eyes locked on the ground. “Michael, I did everything I could, but… he’s gone.”

And with those words, my world falls apart.

“Geoff, he can’t be gone! He was just here!” I know I’m shouting, almost positive people are staring, but I don’t care. This can’t be happening. It can’t be. “What the fuck did you do?! Why weren’t you looking out for him!”

“Michael, Michael calm down.” Geoff’s hands on my shoulders, big, strong, steady hands. “I tried. I did everything I could. It’s just… he got away from me. I couldn’t… couldn’t stop him and…” Guilt is written all over his face, but that’s secondary to the ache that’s consuming my chest.

“You didn’t do enough!” I shove him away, seeing the way his face crumples, regretting the words even though there’s no way I can take them back. More keep rolling out of my mouth. “This is why no one trusts you with anything! You… you can’t even…” I choke on a sob and he pulls me into another hug, hands rubbing my back, shushing and soothing me like I’m a goddamned  _baby_.

“We’ll find him, Michael. I promise, we’ll find him.”

“What if he’s d-d- _dead_?!” I force the word out, choking on it, spitting it up like bile. “What if he’s dead and it’s all my fault?!”

“He’s not. I promise you, he’s not. Michael, come on, we’ll find him. Someone has to have seen him.” Geoff holds me at arm’s length, thumbs brushing my tears off my cheeks briefly. “We just have to look for him.”

Sniffling, nodding miserably, knowing it’s a lost cause, I agree. I let him take my hand and lead me around the park, asking questions, asking if anyone’s seen our missing boy.

No one has, not a single person in the entire fucking park has seen him. How hard can he be to find?! Shaggy and energetic and probably near the food stands but there’s not a single person that recalls seeing him. It hurts. I know I fucked up and having it confirmed by every person that shrugs and shakes their head is like getting my heart ripped out and stepped on.

Geoff’s hand tightens on mine as he leads me to a bench, sits me down like a fucking kid and tells me to wait. He wanders towards the hot dog stands and I swing my feet,  _feeling_  like a kid, feeling useless and dumb and so irresponsible. There’s a hollow ache in my chest where my heart used to be, a rotting feeling in the center of my stomach because despite my earlier theatrics and blaming Geoff, this is all my fault. My responsibility, my lapsed attention, my problem to fix and Geoff was just being nice enough to help me, but I threw all the blame at him.

God, I suck.

Around the park are dogs barking and that makes me hurt more, makes me want to curl up into myself and cover my ears, hide under a blanket until everything goes away. Everything is painful, everything reminds me of my failure as a person, everything—

“Um. Are you okay?”

My knees have drawn up towards my chest and my face is buried in them when the strange voice cuts into my thoughts. I don’t look up, waving a hand dismissively. “M’fine.”

Something warm and wet traces over my fingers and I jolt, fairly convinced that some homeless dude just licked my hand, wondering how long I should wash for before touching my face again.

Looking up, however, it’s not a homeless guy. At least, not the typical kind.

It’s a guy, about my age, messy sandy-blonde hair and a stubbly beard on his jaw and chin. He’s frowning in concern, his brows knitted together. He definitely doesn’t look like he just licked my hand.

As if to confirm the thought, there’s another swipe of a warm, wet tongue against my fingers. I let my eyes trail down, feeling them widen, feeling my heart speed up in disbelief.

He’s there, leash and collar still on, held in the arms of the stranger still staring at me like I’m  a fucking lunatic—which I just might be. “Daffs!” I nearly scream, jolting to my feet, watching the guy holding my puppy stumble backwards. He nearly falls as the small mutt wriggles to get free and I reach a hand out, steadying him. Stable on his feet, the guy bends over and sets my puppy down, handing me the leash.

“Daffs?” He repeats, raising an eyebrow as the shaggy little ball of energy runs around my legs towards the bench I was sitting on.

“Yeah, uh…” I shrug, waving a hand dismissively, far too excited that my puppy is safe and back with me and okay to care about some stranger in the park judging my admittedly shitty animal naming skills. “Thanks for finding him.” I look him over again, swallowing hard. Shit, some hot stranger in the park is judging me as a pet namer and probably a pet owner, too. “He… he got away from me, see…”

“Yeah, he, uh, ran past me and his leash got wrapped around my leg, so I figured I’d try to find his owner.” The guy smiles a bit sheepishly, and it isn’t a hard thing to imagine that all twenty-five pounds of Daffs had probably yanked this guy to the ground when his leash got tangled. “I, um, I’m Gavin, by the way.”

“Michael.” I offer my hand that’s not gripping onto Daffs’ leash, shaking his quickly. “I’m really glad he’s okay.”

“Me too.” Gavin smiles, moving to sit on the bench and I join him without a second thought. In front of us, Daffs is pouncing on flowers and stalking bugs. “What kind of dog is he?”

“Shelter mutt. My roommate thinks that there’s probably some sort of collie in him, but his color makes me think retriever.” I smile, reaching down and running my hand along my puppy’s back as he runs by. “You like dogs?”

“More of a cat person, personally, but he’s cute.” Gavin reaches down to pet him too, both of us jerking away as if burned when our hands touch. We laugh nervously and sit up again. “I live in a studio, so cats are better because they don’t really take up as much space, you know?”

“Makes sense. Dogs need a lot more room to run around.”

We chat back and forth a bit longer (turns out that Gavin probably wasn’t judging my naming skills, considering his cat is named Egg) while Daffs rolls around in the grass at our feet. It isn’t until my stomach rumbles that I realize Geoff still isn’t back with the ‘quick lunch’ he said he was going to get.

“—the Game of Thrones books—“

“That motherfucker.” I interrupt, clearing my throat and offering a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I just realized something.”

“What’s up, Michael?” Gavin’s got one arm slung across the back of the park bench, turned slightly to face me.

“My roommate is being an asshole, is all. Probably saw us sitting together and thought we were, you know, hooking up or something.” I can feel my cheeks heating up with a flush. “H-he does this shit whenever I’m talking to someone new, no matter who they are. It’s so annoying.”

“Well…” Gavin looks around, pulling his phone from his pocket. “If he’s expecting it anyways, how about you give me your number?” He’s blushing too, shifting his arm from the back of the bench, maybe suddenly realizing that it does sort of look like we’re getting close.

I swallow, watching his eyes, waiting for any sort of teasing. When there’s none, I rattle off my nine digits, jumping slightly as my phone vibrates in my pocket a second later. “There.” Gavin says, putting his phone away. “Now you have my number, too.” He stands up, leaning down once more to run his hands along Daffs’ fur, before waving and heading back across the park. I watch him leave, swallowing hard.

It was supposed to be a normal day.

Instead I got a guy’s number.

When Geoff joins me on the bench a minute later, ready to tease, I’m still trying to process how today went from normal to horrible to awesome so quickly.

It isn’t until I get home that I actually check the text Gavin sent me, my heart immediately speeding up as I read it.

New Text Message  
 **Unknown (xxx-xxx-xxxx)**  
 _Dinner w/ me Fri @ 7?_

My fingers can’t type ‘yes’ fast enough.


End file.
